


Baby Snakes

by louise_lux



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Other, Snakepreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louise_lux/pseuds/louise_lux
Summary: "We met at the zoo, we got on, yadda yadda. You know how the story goes."Aziraphale raised his eyebrows."Well maybe you don't. Anyway, we hung out and then-- " He gestured with a flick of his head at the clutch of eggs.





	Baby Snakes

"Crowley? Are you in?"

Aziraphale's concerned tones drifted in from the hall. Crowley jerked out of a doze; his dreams had been full of small furry mammals. He willed Aziraphale to go away, but no, he was letting himself in. Crowley flicked his tongue and clamped his sharp teeth shut in dismay. Steps came closer, then they stopped. He looked up to see Aziraphale staring at him through the sitting room doorway.

"Here you are! I was worried. You didn't call for weeks. Why are you a snake?"

Crowley snorted through his delicate nostrils and didn't answer. 

"And why are you lying in all that paper? It's funny, it looks just like a nest." He came closer and peered down. There was a silence during which Crowley could feel Aziraphale's eyes widening. "Oh," he said in a small, dazed voice. 

Crowley curled up more securely around the soft skinned, cream-coloured eggs and wordlessly dared Aziraphale to say one more thing. He wished he'd gone and hidden rather than have Aziraphale see him like this. 

"They're eggs," said Aziraphale in tones of wonder. He sounded as though he'd been hit on the head by a brick. 

"Well ssspotted, Ssssherlock."

There was a pause while Aziraphale tilted his head this way and that, trying to get a closer look. "Are they, um, yours?" he asked delicately. 

Crowley fixed him with a stare, not that he could do anything else, having no eyelids. "Of course! Why else do you think I'd be hanging around in this ssshape?"

"Quite." Aziraphale looked like he was trying not to laugh. He evidently gave in, a silly smile growing on his face. "Are you the father or the, um, mother?"

"Oh bloody-- All right. There was this other snake. We met at the zoo, we got on, yadda yadda. You know how the story goes."

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. 

"Well maybe you don't. Anyway, we hung out and then-- " He gestured with a flick of his head at the clutch of eggs. 

"But didn’t you take precautions?" Aziraphale asked.

"I didn't think I had to!" Crowley snapped back. "I mean, I didn’t expect this to happen. Who would? I must just not have been concentrating or something. Concentrating too hard. I don't know! I didn't even realise I was pregnant- just thought it was indigestion." He lapsed into glum silence. 

"So, ah, this snake was a male snake?"

"Well what do you think?" he said with heavy sarcasm.

Aziraphale just gazed at him.

"Look, I was an angel once too, you know," Crowley snapped. "You're not the only sexless being round here. I can be female if I choose," he said, not meeting Aziraphale's eyes.

"Well, yes, I suppose you can."

Crowley dropped his head dolefully back onto his coils. He'd been such a fool. That snake had turned out to be such a, a-- snake. Underneath him the eggs twitched with tiny movements. He tried hard to resent them and only made himself more angry when he couldn't. 

"Oh, look," Aziraphale breathed, leaning over, "they're moving! When do they hatch?"

"I don't know," Crowley admitted.

"You don't?"

"Look, I've never done this before, all right? I'm not a bloody expert."

"Yes, but you are a snake. Why are you a snake now anyway?"

"What would you want to give birth to? Some nice neat eggs or a big, shouting, messy baby?"

"Right, yes, I see," Aziraphale said. "But you could change back to your usual body."

"I thought it might be better for them if I was like this," he said quietly, looking away. He didn't need to see that soppy smile on the angel's face.

*

They spent the next few days in an odd sort of domesticity. Aziraphale sat next to him sipping tea and watching suspiciously endless reruns of the Antiques Roadshow. Crowley stayed curled up on his nest, occasionally demanding milk and plates of fresh mice. Brooding was hungry work. 

Aziraphale was in Crowley's kitchen making a fresh vat of tea when Crowley slithered to him at high speed, curled straight up his leg and up onto his shoulder. 

"They're hatching," he hissed, "come and do ssssomething!"

Aziraphale spilled boiling water all over the counter and dropped the teapot with a crash. He disentangled Crowley gently from his arm. "But what?" he said. 

"What am I going to do with them?" moaned Crowley. "I can’t bring them up."

"Why not? I'm sure you'd make a fine parent, if you put your mind to it."

"I'm a demon. We don't do pocket money and packed lunches. You'll have to do it!"

"Me? I rather think not, my dear."

"Why not?"

"They're _yours_." Aziraphale gave him a gooey look. "What about the father?"

"Sssshutup!"

They watched each of the eggs twist and break to show tiny blunt-nosed black heads peeping through, their pink tongues flickering at the new, strange smells. They slithered shakily out onto Crowley's rug and stared up at him. 

"Oh, they're beautiful," Aziraphale breathed. "They're just like you."

Crowley hissed and moved closer, gently touching each of them with the tip of his tongue. They were perfect little replicas, all those pairs of little glowing yellow eyes gazing at him. After a long while, he heard Aziraphale say something in gentle tones, and then the front door opened and closed, and they were alone. 

*

"I'm ready. Where are you?"

Aziraphale was in Crowley's sitting room, distracting himself with the new Jack Reacher book. The plots were awfully urgent. He looked up to see Crowley standing in the doorway, back to his human form. His hair flamed red in the morning sunshine. It was the same red as his scales Aziraphale realised, with a little pang. 

"Ssstop wasting time with that! Come on," Crowley snapped. He was carrying a small wooden box, carefully drilled with air holes. 

Aziraphale put the book down with a sigh. "Are you quite sure about this? If you change your mind... " He stopped. 

Crowley just shook his head, and Aziraphale followed him down to the car. 

*

There was the trip to the airport in the Bentley, which Crowley drove less frantically than usual. There was the long-haul flight during which he sat with the box on his lap the whole way, not letting Aziraphale hold it even once.

There was long and increasingly bumpy taxi ride to edge of the jungle. Aziraphale paid the taxi driver to wait, even though Crowley just wanted to hypnotise him. It was raining hard and the ground was sodden. Mud splashed up over Crowley's shoes and trousers but he didn’t seem to notice. 

"Here's about right."

Aziraphale looked about. It all looked the same to him. "If you're sure... "

Crowley finally met his gaze, and nodded, then knelt down and very carefully slid the lid off the box. 

"Come on," he whispered, upending it gently. Four small reluctant heads poked out, taking a few moments to get used to their new surroundings, then their tongues came out and flickered excitedly. Crowley smiled. They looked at him and he said something to each one of them in turn. Aziraphale couldn't understand it, but then he'd never had the knack of talking to animals. Crowley's words were fluid and sibilant and sent a shiver down his spine. 

After a moment the little snakes slipped away, moving without a single rustle into the wet leaves. 

"Bye," Crowley whispered, watching until there was nothing to show they'd ever been there. 

"Let's go," Aziraphale said finally, taking his elbow and leading him back to the waiting taxi. The drive back to the airport was silent. Crowley stared unblinkingly out of the window, watching the muddy countryside and its tiny villages pass by in a green and brown blur. 

"They were just snakes," Crowley said, eventually. "Not like me. They're better off out there."

"Of course."

The stewardess on the plane was very kind and at Aziraphale's request procured him hot sweet tea and a soft blanket. Crowley ignored both offerings. He was forced to fiddle with her memory in the end, much as he hated to do so. The air pressure changed subtly and he looked round at the slight movement of air. Crowley had gone. In his place, a large black snake looked up at him with glowing yellow eyes. 

"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale said gently. "Here." He lifted the blanket and Crowley slithered into his lap and curled up there, nudging his nose up against Aziraphale's warm hands. Aziraphale stroked him all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written around 2004. This is a slightly edited version.


End file.
